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them or me - the last skeptik lyrics

[hook: trim]
i don’t know who should be
more p-ssed, them or me
i don’t know who should be
more p-ssed, them or me
them or me, them or me
wait, it’s them or me
it’s them or me, it’s them or me
wait, fam, it’s them or me

[verse 1: nico lindsay]
listen, yo, i see ’em creeping, wondering, another thing to focus on
but focus never gone, i lock on and pay attention
they know of but never mention but that, i prefer
strategies first before rolling out in the field
shattering thrills by doing what i naturally feel
they actually don’t do but it’s mad that you feel
battle yourself, it comes like that’s what you need
but eyes are on me, honestly
avoid the bs, i reach the next step and look for more
some even envy but they’re booked for tours
i’m still local, tryna make it pop
my bars drop will make you have to look at yours
suddenly, you have to look at floors, counting all the cracks
contemplating all your different flaws
tryna figure out a new plan to fit into, sick to you
it’s me or them, no switching moves
doing what they didn’t do, and even if they did
i’d just do it from a different view, way more official too

[verse 2: the last skeptik]
i don’t give a flying f-ck of what these f-ckers say
the day i give a f-ck is the day i hit my grave
i see bare out-of-towners down here tryna act brave
get their phone lift, they start to hate that life they crave
they want that hip hop real sh-t, dirt under the fingernails
spitting tales, wishing that they hid the hidden grail
running their lips of their life, they big on kiss-and-tell
tail between they legs, stripping, thinking that they failed
they on their fake views, fake fans, fake d-mn everything
fake tan, ess-x girl, bait as f-ck at everything
this ain’t no blog sh-t, forget that (f-ck you, man)
b-tch, i’m with a sick akh, b-tch, i’m in the bas-m-nt with a pickaxe
picking neurosis, open up my own string
rotting away like halitosis, i’m on some old sh-t
i’m on my own sh-t, rolling my whole chin
i told you c-nts before, i hold a grudge when i go in

[verse 3: trim]
yo, and i ain’t vouching for either
claiming they’re sick and turning up with glandular fever
and i ain’t preeing it cause it’s ebola flow
ain’t the only style i could strangle the beat with
[?] ting like this sh-t is beneath me
none of these hormonal flies can pitch on my faeces
the smell between the lines that i’ve been selling ’em dreams with
i’m cold, alie, and they can act like this ain’t the ends that i’m deep in
but i’m still rolling, like ‘please alienate my species’
yeah, they don’t know the life
i’ve been openly closing the minds of those that think they can reach me
while on my grime daily, they look for the weekly
i told man, they need me
but i’m still mixing these colours, phantom
but this opera don’t like the voice i’ve discovered
and this fire that i throw at random
mothers, i’m still creating this silence
like i had a choice on these roads of being red and hating on these violets

- the last skeptik lyrics

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